As the Minutes Passed
by sesshy's-stalker
Summary: Nightmares reawakened and brought back from the past have a nasty habit of ruining lives and devastating what little peace of mind some manage to obtain. And Ralph is no exception to the phenomenon of nightmares.


And the Minutes Passed

by

Sesshy's-Stalker

AN: I know I shouldn't, considering that I haven't been keeping up with my other stories, but a year is a long time and people's interests change.

I love The Lord of the Flies, truly a work of art, I especially love the concept of a bunch of little boys alone together on an island, at the peak of puberty and sexual emergence…you just know at least one of those little boys was totally gay and thinking "lucky" at the prospect of pounding some hot little boy ass…I'm thinking Roger definitely had some of those thoughts(at least some form…)....none of this has to do with the story, just my thoughts.

Another side note, I don't know a lot about beatnik poetry, but I gave it my best attempt, google will only take you so far…and yes there were beatniks in England, just not everywhere or as many.

Chapter 1

He sat there waiting.

It was 1 with exactly 12 minutes, pm.

The clock kept ticking

How had he come there? What possible reason kept him where he was? Surely he could rise form the chair…and leave. That was a possibility. But no, he stayed where he was waiting for whatever was to come, if it even came that is.

-----------------

"Ralph?"…"Ralph?!"

"Huh-What? Oh…yes?"

"I was just saying that today we need to go out, we've bee working too hard lately,-" "-and as you know Sam and I do not perform well when we're stressed, so-" "-we've taken it upon ourselves to have fun and unwind. You're coming with us-" "- of course." They left no room for discussion in between their simultaneous, almost seamless stringing of word. They could never be argued with, and so was the charm of Samneric.

"I suppose I really have no choice in the matter?"

"None." they spoke at once.

"Right."

-------------------

It was unsettling how well Samneric knew Ralph. As if every thought that passed his head was immediately picked up by them, like some sort of brain-reading antennae. The very second he thought of a place to go, they said the same thing before he even opened his mouth to suggest it.

It was an underground beatnik coffee house.

The thick smoky air just seemed to ooze across the room and seep deep into your lungs, mellowing you out instantaneously. They sat on an overly mushy couch near the stage where some girl and some man where gargling out some song, it was a sad attempts. Their waitress, a pretty young thing in a red cardigan, took their order. Two coffees, black, and one extra strong espresso. The espresso was for Eric, who always liked things a little bitter, and strong, hence the small flask of whiskey he kept in his coat pocket.

As they sat, soaking in the room, the neighbor to Ralph's left passed him the toke that had been circling the room. He looked at critically, as if checking for spots or stains, but ultimately gave in and took a hit… then another, and then a couple more. He breathed it in and let it saturate into his body, then passed it along to Sam, who took it and puffed a few, a bit too quickly to actually enjoy it. He then hurriedly gave it to Eric who gave it puff, took out his own cigarette, lit it with the joint and passed it to his neighbor.

It had been exactly 7 minutes and 54 seconds since the waitress had taken their orders.

When they finally received their drinks they were considerably higher then when they had entered.

"So Ralph, we heard around the office that a certain somebody-" "-a certain sitting-next-to-us somebody-" "-is going to be promoted to commodore very soon-" "-and that this certain somebody is skeptical about it-" "- is it true?" they finished together.

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Blimey man! You're being offered the position of commodore and you're actually hesitating about it?-" "-you should be yelling to the bloomin' heavens in gratitude!"

" Well, I don't really feel up to the challenge right now…"

" Don't be such a girly pessimist and take the bloody title!"

Ralph openly stared at them, just taking them in. They were a bit red-faced from having chewed him out, their blonde ear-length hair now slightly shaken and tasseled, big bright blue eyes staring determinately at him. They were a good looking pair, but they lacked subtlety and self-control. He sighed.

" Yeah, what ever happens, we'll see." not a straight answer, but he best he could give them.

They wasted 5 minutes and 6 seconds on that squabble.

'Maybe I should take the promotion', he thought reflecting on his life.

Ever since they had left the island he had felt odd, probably never having fully adjusted to being among civilized society once again. He had gone to military school, forsaking his place at his previous all boys boarding school. He truly didn't mind, being in that place and seeing all those familiar faces, he didn't think he could face them, their images were forever tainted and bloodied in his head. But well into his fourth year at the academy, when he was 17, he came across Samneric. They has been forced to attend the academy as a last resort to rectify their abhorrent, rebellious behaviour, or so they had told him. They finished 2 years after Ralph, who by then had been rising in the ranks of the Royal Navy. The twins thought this a bit ridiculous and a tad ironic, that he would be so drawn to a life of seafaring. But they had always appreciated things a tad on the odd and ridiculous side. So with recommendations they soon followed after him and joined the navy.

Surprisingly they had been together ever since, even going as far as renting flat together, where they hardly stayed during their off time. They were ' children of the night and the wildlife' as Sam liked to put it. Which was mostly true as they usually kept out all night socializing and…partying, as it were.

And now as they sat there on the overly mushy couch drinking their caffeinated beverages, Ralph felt a most gut wrenching wave of nostalgia. God how he hated feeling nostalgic. There was a pinprick running along his back as he felt a trickle of remembrance coupled with the feeling that somebody was watching him. It made him feel uneasy and he then noticed that Samneric were uncharacteristically quiet, staring at something behind him with a look of surprise and uncertainty. He looked behind him to see if he could catch a glimpse as well, of whatever it was.

He must have missed it because he saw nothing remotely interesting.

There was a blur in his peripheral vision that moved up to the stage, possibly another performer.

Giving up on finding whatever was behind him he noticed the twins now staring intently at the stage. He followed their gaze and was met with horror filled disbelief.

A tall lanky, slightly boney frame. A thin oblong face with slightly pointed chin. A long straight narrow nose, high cheek bones, thin smooth lips, a peppering of reddish brown freckles and a head full of bright red curly tufts. But what resounded with heavy recognition in his heart were those sharp pale blue eyes.

It was Jack.

The background musicians began to play: the low steady rumble of the bass began, bum-bum-bum-boom, the tappy springy ratta-tat-tat- of the bongos, the barely there tinkling of the piano, ping pang, ding dang, and the tambourine Jack picked up sealed it with a clattle-rattle-pring…

" You say yesterday is over

Well I live it every single day

You say it doesn't really matter

Its all that matters, that's what I say

Give it up

I want you to start running

Cause I'm going on the hunt

I hack and I tear and I cleave

I made a lovely mess of this stunt

Give it up

You king among insects

You saint above sinners

You'll hang high on the stakes

In the presence of grinners

Give it up

I hope you've slept well

And I hope you've slept long

Because I've come to settle a score

And bury you where you belong"

He finished to a roar of thunderous applause.


End file.
